


525,600 minutes

by IowaGuy1979



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:21:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IowaGuy1979/pseuds/IowaGuy1979
Summary: Alone, Chloe gets lost in her mind.
Kudos: 2





	525,600 minutes

525,600 minutes. The number of mintues in one year.

525,600 minutes, and Max Caulfield could have used 5 or 10 or 30 of them, to find out how Chloe was doing, to reconnect. Well, it had been over one year, a little less than a year and a half.

As she lay on her bed, the CD started the next song.

I don’t really like myself without you  
Every song I sing is about you

Like a damn earworm, she couldn’t get Max out of her head.

Save me from myself  
the way you used to.

Chloe looked down on the healing scars on her wrist.  
The sharp pain, when the blades cut, made her feel almost alive.  
She knew she was headed down a dark path, but, being abandoned by first her dad, then Max, she had no one to save her from herself.

I really wish I hated you

That was the crux of the matter,wasn’t it? No matter how much she thought about Max, about how she had left just when Chloe was at her weakest, she could not find it in herself, to hate her First Mate.

A little drunk, waiting on your phone call.

She had burned through a good half of a 12 pack, secured by Frank. Waiting for a phone call, as she had been for over a year. One that she was increasingly certain would never come.

I love you but I hate you  
when you’re with someone else

Chloe snorted. No doubt Max had found someone else. Some good looking dude, showing her the big city, Seattle. Showing her how better things were, now that she had kicked the dirt of rural Oregon off of her shoes.

I drove by your house  
but you don’t live there anymore

She had skated by the Caulfield’s old house, two days ago. It was still empty. A very small, delusional part of herself, thought Max might possibly still be there. She was not, of course. Chloe resolved to never go by that house, again.

Cause I don’t really like myself without you

She knew, in the back of her head, what was going on. Without Max, she was spiraling down, miring herself deeper in her thoughts, in her depression. Most of her, though, was just focused on Max. On her betrayal.

won’t you say something  
won’t you say something 

She checked her messages. Whether out of habit, or from a subconscious suggestion from the song, she didn’t know.  
No new ones, not for over a year. The last one had been a month after Max had moved. A promise to stay in touch. A lie, just like so many that this shitty world had thrown at her.

I think about  
the future we left behind

Chloe scowled at the pirate hat, hanging on the corner of her mirror. Evidence of a dead life, a dead future.

I drank it all  
but I can’t shake it from my mind.

She pulled a tab. One more, of so many. No matter how foggy she got, the images wouldn’t leave.

Max and her, digging up a buried treasure.

Blowing up those Barbies.

The tape recording.

“We’ll always be Max and Chloe”

save me from myself  
the way you used to

Again, Chloe looked at the small web of scars. She imagined Max, holding her, telling her it was all right. That she’d heal Chloe, as she had always done.

Chloe stood up, and slammed her head against the wall twice, to rid herself of the image, to no avail.  
Sometimes, when the cutting and booze was not enough, and she knew Joyce and the Step-jackass weren’t home, she’d slam her head into the walls of her bedroom until she lost consciousness. Those were the best times. The nothingness of the void.

I can see that you’ve had enough  
I can see that you’re giving up on me  
I can see that your hands are up  
I can see that you’re giving up on me

Max had left, just like her Dad. Because Chloe wasn’t good enough. They had both had enough of her shit, so they had left. She didn’t deserve them. She choked back a sob.

I hate the way that you’re better off, better off  
I numb the pain, but it never stops, never stops.

She grabbed her head. “FUCKING SHITSACK WORLD! WHY? WHY? WHY DOES THIS SHIT HAPPEN TO ME???” She ran to the bathroom. And pulled out a razor. ‘Should I get results, this time?”, she chuckled darkly. Across the street for attention, down the road for results… The razor started to cut. It went across, yet again. 

I really wish I hated you

the music continued to blare from her room. It would be so much better if she could dredge up pitch black hatred for Max. Then she could, maybe, leave Max behind. But, no, her fucking brain couldn’t do that…

the lead singer quietly sang

won’t you say something  
won’t you say something

She remembered that Firewalk was playing at the old mill tonight. Kick ass music and beer might help. Fortunately, the cut on her arm was very shallow. She grabbed some toilet paper, and applied it to the small wound.

As the song stopped, she started to psych herself up, to prepare. Prepare for a night of drinking, loud music, and no goddamned Max “Never Maxine” Caulfield.

**Author's Note:**

> The song referenced is I Don't Really Like Myself Without You by Blink-182.  
> Randomly popped up on my Spotify. Right way, it made me think of Chloe, in the lonely time between Max leaving and meeting Rachel. How, despite her attempts to hate Max, and try to move on, she can't.  
> Yeah. I know it doesn't make sense for a song that came out last year, to be on a burned CD in 2010. But, what's a little anachronism between friends?
> 
> Hope this is enjoyed.


End file.
